THE BLOOD OF A POET
Every poem is a coat of arms.
It must be deciphered.
Nothing but blood and tears
in exchange for these axes, faces,
unicorns, torches,
towers, blackbirds,
half-stars
and fields of azure!
Free to choose the faces, forms, gestures,
tones, acts and places which please him,
he uses them to compose a realist documentary of unreal events.
The musician underscores the sounds and silences.
The author dedicates this group of allegories to Pisanello,
Paolo Uccello, Piero Della Francesca and Andrea Del Castagno,
painters of coats of arms and puzzles.
Episode one.
The Wounded Hand, or The Scars of the Poet.
While, in the distance, the cannons of Fontenoy boomed,
in a modest room, a young man...
Fleeing the painting and infecting the naked hand like leprosy,
the drowned mouth seemed to be fading away
in a smallzone of white light.
Air...
The following morning...
The sleeper seen up close, or the surprises of photography.
...or how I was trapped by my own film
It's dangerous enough as it is,
wiping oneself on the furniture.
And he is right
to wake the statues with a start,
after their centuries-long sleep.
Episode two.
Do Walls Have Ears?
Do you think it's that easy
to get rid of a wound?
To close the mouth of a wound?
Open up!
You have one possibility left.
Enter the mirror and walk around there.
I congratulate you.
You wrote that we entered the mirror,
and you didn't believe it!
I...
Try.
Keep trying.
Try.
The inside of the mirror led to the hotel of dramatic follies.
In the early morning, Mexico,
the burial pits of Vincennes,
the Boulevard Arago and a hotel room
are of equal worth.
The mysteries of China.
Room 19, celestial ceiling.
In room 23,
desperate hermaphrodites met.
DANGER OF DEATH
- Don't switch it off! - Yes!
Instructions.
Seize the butt of the gun with both hands.
Release the safety catch.
Cock.
Place the index finger on the trigger.
Press the barrel against the temple and fire!
Always glory!
I've had enough! Enough!
Shit, shit, shit!
Mirrors ought to think a bit before reflecting images.
Breaking statues,
one risks
becoming one
oneself.
More glory, always glory!
Episode three. The Snowball Battle.
The big boys.
The pupil Dargelos was the class's top dog.
A snowball in his hands
could be as harmful as Spanish knives.
Episode four.
The Profanation of the Host.
The city that evening was elegant in the extreme.
If you don't have the ace of hearts, my dear,
you are lost!
A documentary...
that never ends.
That is how the cheat
imagines his gesture,
faster than lightning.
You should know that the child's guardian appeared.
He came from an empty house.
His colour was black,
and he limped a little with his left foot.
His cape billowed out like an ink stain,
and disappeared beneath the work of the supernatural character,
growing pale while absorbing the prey.
Her work done, the woman became a statue again,
an inhuman thing, with black gloves denounced by the snow,
on which her gait would henceforth leave no print.
The deadly boredom of immortality!
The end!
Howard Bonsor, TITRA FILM
VDM